You're my Possession
by Anime the Fallen Angel
Summary: And I will be the one, who'll hold you down, Kiss you so hard, I'll take away the tears... 0304 yaoi. A little 0105.
1. Chapter 1

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

Disclaimer: This applies to all chapters!  I don't own Gundam Wing, or the song 'Possession', which I named my chapters for from the lyrics.

A little different from what I usually write... which is Beyblade fics.  But I got this idea and just had to write it.  Warning: Yaoi!

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 1: Listen as the Wind blows... Across the great divide...**

Trowa stood in the centre of the large forest, the wind playing through his single bang.  He scanned the trees with his green eyes, searching for the familiar figure.  The leaves rustled in his ears as he strained to look for his friend.

"Trowa!  Trowa!  Up here!"

Trowa looked up at the boy high up in the leaves.  The boy's face was unidentifiable due to the sun that shone directly behind him, ringing his head like a halo.  The boy waved and a light sort of laughter rang out.  

"Bet you can't catch me from up here!"

"Wanna bet!?"

Trowa walked up to the tree and placed his foot into a hole in the bark.  With a grunt, he pulled himself up.  After a few successful swings, Trowa was right on the branch his friend was sat on.  The other boy laughed out loud.

"You're always really good at climbing really fast.  How do you do that?"

"Practise.  How do you manage to climb so high?"

The boy smiled back.  "Practise.  It also helps if you're not afraid of heights."

The two boys laughed as they sat side by side on the tree branch, just looking out at the view below them, silent.  Soon, the sun began to set.  The boys smiled as the sky turned into a fiery red from the sun.  Trowa looked at his friend and marvelled at how ethereal he looked with the red light in his hair and reflected on his skin.  The boy noticed Trowa's stare and faced hi.

"What is it, Tro?"

Trowa just looked.  Without realising, the two boys had inched closer together.  Green and blue orbs slid shut; breath mingled.  Before anything could happen, the boys were interrupted by a voice far below their feet.

"Prince Trowa!  His Majesty requests you return to the Palace immediately!"

Trowa looked down at his caretaker.  The man held the reins of two horses in his hand; one horse was a dark brown, the other a pale sort of grey and not as well kept.  Trowa looked at his companion and climbed down the tree, his friend not so far behind.  Soon, both boys were seated on the horses.  Trowa had offered his own well kept brown horse to his friend, but the boy had refused, mounting the white horse.  Trowa looked at his friend, grinning broadly.

"I had great fun today.  We'll always be friends, won't we?"

"'Course we will, Tro!  You may be the Prince of Barton-Arms, but you'll always be my friend..."

"Promise?" Trowa said, holding out his hand.

"Promise!"  The other boy intertwined his fingers in Trowa's and shook the fist three times before linking their little fingers.  "And since we did our friendship shake, we can't ever forget this promise."

"I won't."

And Trowa grinned, feeling the wind in his hair and listening to it sing.  Nothing can ruin their friendship.

******

"Trowa!!!  Trowa!!!  Help me!"

Trowa looked up fearfully at his father's stern face then to his friend.  Tears fell down the boy's cheeks, fear obvious on his face.  The boy was dressed in rags and shackled, exactly the way Trowa had met him for the first time.  Trowa shut his eyes, willing the tears not to fall.

"Well, Trowa?  What will you do? Will you keep this boy and taint the royal name?  Or will you carry out your royal duty and cast him away like the rodent he is?"

Trowa winced at his father's, the King's, tone.  He had gotten into trouble with his father continuously ever since Trowa found his friend in the kitchen, stealing food.  The King had put his foot down the other day when he suspected his son's 'friendship' wasn't all it was meant to be.  Now he was forcing his son to make the hardest decision of his young life.  It was either get rid his friend, or be disowned and risk tearing apart the peace of the kingdom. Trowa opened his eyes and met big blue ones, filled with hope.  Trowa took a deep breath and his expression hardened.

"Cast him away!"

The young face of the now disowned friend fell and betrayal and hurt replaced the light of hope in his eyes.  He kept yelling as he was dragged away by the guards.

"Trowa!  I thought we were friends!  What about our promise!?  Trowa!"

Trowa turned away, unable to take in the hurt in his friend's voice and face, walking away.  He hardened his heart, unwilling to listen to the now fading please of his friend.  The King placed a hand on Trowa's shoulder.

"You have done the right thing, Trowa.  We mustn't taint our name with such scum.  Now, I want you to meet someone this afternoon.  Our allies and the heir of the Chang Empire, Wufei Chang and his father, the current..."

Trowa simply stared straight ahead.  Mentally, he drove a wedge in his heart, dividing his new self from the boy he once was.


	2. Chapter 2

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 2: Voices trapped in yearning... Memories trapped in time.**

_Barton Palace, Some years later..._

_"I thought we were friends!"_

Prince Trowa Barton bolted upright in his bed, gasping and sweating.  He wiped his forehead, wondering what might have caused him to wake up so suddenly.  He recalled a distant dream and a feel of betrayal and hurt.  What stood out to him were the eyes he saw.  He tried to mentally grab the image, but the more he tried to grasp it, the further the image seemed to be.  He wasn't even sure they were eyes.  Taking a deep steadying breath, Trowa stood up and stretched.  Immediately, almost as if he had mentally called for them, a group of servants entered the room and proceeded helping the Prince get ready for the day.  Trowa's caretaker entered the room with a quill and some paper.

"Good Morning, Your Highness.  Shall I inform you of any activities set for today?"

"Go ahead, and make it quick." was the harsh and clipped command.

"His Highness, Prince Wufei Chang of the Chang Empire and his father, the Regent of the Chang Empire, will be paying a visit today.  He is scheduled to arrive after breakfast, according to his messenger."

"Prince Wufei?  Is it just a social visit?" Trowa asked boredly as a he was helped into a dark green day jacket.

"I was not informed of his intent, your Highness."

"Is that all?"

"Yes your Highness.  I shall prepare your horse for you."  The caretaker bowed and left the room.  Trowa straightened the lapel of his jacket himself and took his riding helmet and riding crop and descended to the breakfast room.  He had already forgotten about the young familiar voice in his dream.  He had forgotten how much the voice in his dream sounded hurt and betrayed.  In fact, he lost the previous yearning that tore his chest.

******

_Some house, Central village _

"Hey, Duo!  Wake up!"

"Wha... zzzzz....."

The brunette lain upon the mattress turned over and continued snoring.  The blonde standing over him sighed and grabbed a nearby bucket.  With a mischievous smirk, Quatre turned the bucket upside down and dumped the cold contents onto his partner.  Duo yelped and shot out of his mattress, shivering.

"QUAT!!!!  Th..that was c...c...cold!  What was that!?"

"The bucket of water you left out all night."

Duo shook his head and the water flew in all directions.  Quatre laughed and dried his face.  Duo looked up at the blonde boy.

"So what got you up so early, Quat?"

"Oh, nothing much.  Just a dream."

"Care to share?"

"Nope.  Now, c'mon.  The sun's up and shining."

Quatre turned and left Duo's room.  The blonde looked out of the window and stopped.  In the distance, he could make out the stone of the palace.  Quatre frowned.  He couldn't for long.  A hand placed itself on his shoulder and a yawn followed close behind.

"Come off it Quatre; you're always frowning at that place.  Why does the Royal family bug you so much?  Sure, their values don't really lift off with us 'commoners', but you really take stuff to heart whenever they announce or do something."

"They just bug me.  They always have and always will."

"Ah, the whole 'it was so long ago I don't remember', eh?  Well, maybe it doesn't matter.  C'mon, let's make our presence known in the market."

Duo walked away, leaving the blonde to stare and frown at the palace before he followed close behind.  Who cared if he doesn't remember exactly why he hated the Barton household so much?  The bottom line was he remembers that he was treated badly and unforgivably there, and that was all the reason he needed.

******

_Barton-arms Palace, Breakfast Room_

"Ah, Trowa.  Glad of you to join us for breakfast."

Trowa blinked unemotionally at his father who sat at one end of the long breakfast table, uncharacteristically smiling joyfully.  Trowa guessed immediately why it was so, and it shocked him for a second.  A dark haired boy sat next to the king, his dark eyes witnessing Trowa's entrance.  The young man wore a red robe reminiscent of his kingdom's style and a sword hanging off his belt.  Black boots were over his white pants, dusty from riding.  He nodded to the Prince of Barton-arms.

"Good day to you, Prince Trowa."

"Good day, Prince Wufei..." Trowa looked back to his father.  "I thought the Chang Royals were arriving after breakfast, father."

"Well, young Prince Wufei here had taken the liberty of riding ahead of his train and join us for breakfast.  He's quite the rider."

Wufei gave a small smirk like smile.  "But not as good as your son, your Majesty, from what I remember."

Trowa sat himself down opposite of Wufei and grabbed a piece of fruit.  Trowa observed the other prince.  "So what brings you and your father to Barton-arms, Wufei?"

"Business, according to my father.  What, don't ask me, but apparently, it will benefit both our kingdoms."

"Good good!" The King proclaimed.  He tucked into another bowl of oats before looking up at the two boys.  "Trowa.  Why don't you take Wufei along for your horse ride?  Whilst his father and I confer?"

Trowa gave an undecipherable grunt, which the King instantly took as an affirmative.  "Excellent!  Well, I won't keep you boys, then!  Eat up, you'll need energy for your day!"

Trowa continued eating fruit, deep in thought.  What sort of business would the Regent have that will please his father so much?  Obviously something that may raise their stature or wealth; his father seems to care for nothing less.  Trowa looked back at Wufei, who gave nothing away in his face.  Trowa shrugged to himself.  Why should he care anyway?  Once the boys ate their fill, Trowa stood and gathered his riding things, looking to Wufei.

"Coming?"

******

_Village Marketplace_

Quatre peered out from the corner he stood at.  Holding up three fingers, he mouthed a countdown to Duo, across the street.

"Three... two... one... go!"

Duo nodded and leapt out, right in front of a cart full of bread from the bakery.  The horse pulling the cart along reared in surprise, neighing fearfully.  The cart and horse owner was thankfully not on the cart at that time as the horse had tugged on his bridle and pulled away the front of the wagon.  With a whinny, the horse galloped through the market, causing women and children to scream, men to yell and generally cause people to leap out of the way as the horse left chaos in its wake.  Duo made it across the street right after the horse started running, a grin wide on his face.  He stumbled into the alleyway and quickly made his way to Quatre.  The blonde grinned back at Duo.

"Great job!"

"Hey, just say it.  I'm the man!"

Duo un-tucked his shirt and three loaves of bread rolled out.  Quatre picked them up and dusted them before dropping them into his sack and tying it up.

"Well, I wouldn't say that you were the man, but you'd come pretty close.  You did get the bread dusty after all."

"Hey!  Beggars can't be choosers."

"And are we beggars?"

Duo laughed and slapped Quatre's shoulder.  "Got me there, Quat.  Anyway, that's my bit.  Time to do yours."

Quatre looked out into the street and smiled.  "In due time, my friend.  The best quality action comes out around midday to early evening."

******

"How could you stand this weather?  It's so hot."

"It's because it's nearing midday.  I thought it was warm at midday in your kingdom."

Wufei wiped his brow.  "Yes, but not this hot."

Trowa stared straight ahead as he moved his horse through the busy market crowd.  Not that it was very hard anyway.  Most of the villagers parted and made way for their prince like the Red Sea for Moses.  Many of the younger ones would turn away in fear; stories of what would happen to them if they caught the Royal family in a bad mood haunting them.  Trowa paid no attention to them, simply riding his brown horse through the crowd with Wufei behind him.  Wufei encouraged his horse forward, bringing him up next to Trowa.

"So why are we riding through the village?  It's not like they deserve our presence amongst them."

"I have my reasons."  Trowa said quietly.  Truth be known, he didn't remember why he felt that riding through the market place was really essential in his day.  What he did know was that he felt there was purpose behind it and that he'll only know what it is when it stares at him in the face.  Trowa slowed down; for some reason, he felt something was going to happen, and happen soon.

That was when, for the second time that day, chaos broke out once again.  A flash ran out in front of Trowa's horse.  It took all the prince had to keep his ride under control.  Some dogs nearby barked and started running around, tripping up shoppers and scaring other animals.  People shouted again, trying their hardest to get things under control.  Trowa had managed to tame his horse once more and looked around angrily.  Who dared disrupt the peace!?  Trowa then spotted it, or rather, felt it amongst the chaos.  His side felt a little lighter; the side he kept his money pouch.  He looked around ad saw the culprit, his blonde hair disappearing into an alley, away from the crowd.  Trowa took his horse to one side, ordering a child to mind his horse or else and took off after the thief.

******

"Quat!?  Are you mad!?"

Quatre smiled, throwing the expensive looking leather money bag between his hands.  Duo stared at his companion with a mixture of admiration and a look that said 'you need to be locked up'.  Duo laughed, albeit a little nervously at first.

"It's not like he really needs the money, is it." Quatre said.

"That was either really brave or really stupid, but a real act of skill there!" Duo cried.  "I mean, creating all that chaos even my act couldn't compare to, managing to get out of it alive, stealing from Prince Trowa...!"

"You shouldn't go around shouting your achievements until after you are sure you got away with it."

Duo and Quatre whirled around and faced the end of a sword.  Trowa held the hilt, his visible eye angry, but unable to get a proper look at the boys as the blade blocked his view.  His other hand was outstretched.

"Return the money to me, and I may consider going easy on you."

Quatre's eyes went hard.  "You wish..."

The blonde ducked and swung the leather pouch at Trowa, causing him to stumble back to avoid being hit.  That gave the two thieves time to turn and run.  Trowa grunted in annoyance to himself.  Sheathing his sword, he ran after the boys.

Quatre and Duo split up; Duo carrying the bag with the bread and the money pouch, Quatre acting as a decoy.  This was their plan all the time, either one alternating the task of decoy.  Quatre slipped in and out of side and back streets, hoping that the prince wasn't as fit as him to keep up.  Quatre skidded to a halt, suddenly realising his mistake.  He stared at the wall; the result of his wrong turn.  Quatre turned to take a new route but stopped.  The figure of the prince blocked his way out.  Quatre took one step back, as the prince took several.  Quatre gasped and squeezed his eyes shut in surprise when the prince managed to force him against the wall.

"Well, that was some refreshing exercise, peasant, but I'm not in the mood just now for a keep fit plan.  Now open your eyes so I could get a good look at you."

Quatre reluctantly pried his eyes open and stared straight into Trowa's.  Trowa gasped, inaudibly.  He felt a strange familiarity when his near empty green met the endless blue, a feeling of shame mingled under the familiarity.  Almost as soon as he felt it, it disappeared as a voice rang out in the alley.

"Prince Trowa; are you okay?"

"Just fine.  About time you got here..."

Trowa moved away, allowing the guards to grab and shackle the blonde thief.  Quatre went quietly with the guards, but without shooting an angry glare at Trowa.  Trowa tried to ignore it when Wufei walked up behind him.

"Well, I suppose that doesn't happen very often here.  I must say, that was some running you did."

"He wasn't so hard to keep up with.  I suppose you were the one who alerted the guards?"

"Yes.  Come now.  I think we should return to the palace."

Trowa turned and followed the guards away.  He moved the feelings he had aside, looking at the back of Quatre's head.  _Just a thief._  Nothing but a rodent.__


	3. Chapter 3

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 3: The Night is my Companion... Solitude My Guide**

_Barton Palace, Night_

Trowa sat on a chair on the balcony, looking out at the night sky, a flute in his hands.  He simply stared at the night, thinking.  His father and the Regent had been in deep discussion all day.  Wufei had left to explore the palace like he always does, leaving Trowa to find his own way of amusing himself, which suited him just fine.  He preferred being alone anyway.  Trowa lifted the flute to his lips and played a song.  One he had played since he was young.  One that seemed to hold a missing element in his opinion, but one he didn't know.  Whilst he played, he thought of the thief currently in the palace dungeons.  Something about the boy struck something in the Barton prince, and he didn't like it.  He didn't like the feeling of shame and guilt in his gut every time he thought of those angry blue eyes.  After a few minutes playing, Trowa removed the flute from his mouth and frowned.

"If you want to talk, then stop skulking in the shadows."

"My apologies, Trowa, but I couldn't help but just skulk.  It's in my nature."

Prince Wufei walked out onto the balcony, in fresh clothes; a blue tight shirt with a loose hem and a gold dragon down the side with a gold cloth belt tying it to his waist.  He had on a pair of clean white pants and black slippers of his kingdom's design and his ever trusty sword hanging on his belt.  He leaned nonchalantly against the rails of the balcony, observing the Barton prince.

"Where did you learn to play like that?"

"I knew ever since I was young.  What do you want?"

"Just wondering... What's going to happen to that boy in the dungeon?"

"Who knows?  Who even cares; he's just a rodent.  He might be lucky and simply lose a hand.  Or he may be made an example of and be executed.  My father will decide."

Wufei observed the unibanged prince.  "You and the whole Barton household seems to hold that kind of opinion over your people.  Why's that?"

"Why should it matter?"

Wufei shrugged after a while.  The two simply stayed on the balcony in silence.  It was Trowa who broke the silence next.

"Why are you and your father here anyway?  Any news?"

Wufei looked at Trowa and smiled slowly.  "Well, let's say it involves joining our two kingdoms together.  My father hasn't given me many clues, but I have an idea."

"Care to give me any clue?"

Wufei shook his head and pushed himself off the railing.  He walked back into the palace.  "Not really.  Surprises make life worth living, after all..." 

With that, the prince left the balcony and the Barton prince alone, as he preferred.  Trowa closed his eyes and sighed, exasperated.  "I hate being surprised..."  He opened his green eyes again and looked up at the round moon in the night sky; his companion.  Once again, his usually focused thoughts wandered to the boy in the dungeons.

******

_Barton Palace Dungeons_

"Next time, I won't ask nicely.  Who was your accomplice!?"

"I worked alone!"

Quatre coughed as the guard delivered a blow to his gut.  Quatre looked up at the guard, who simply snorted.  "Well, since you won't share, let's see how a night or two of no feeding suits you."

With that, the guard left the cell and dungeons.  Almost as a second thought, he stopped to light the bracket in the wall.  Dim orange light lit just the one corner of the dungeons before the guard left.  Quatre snorted at the meagre light.  With light in that one corner, it made the rest of the dungeon seem darker.  Quatre looked up at the moon through the small barred window of his cell.  Quatre thought how much he hated the Royals; his captivity enforcing his hatred more.  Quatre thought about his braided friend, Duo.  _I wonder if he managed to get away... I hope he's okay..._

Quatre lowered his eyes, thinking.  This wasn't the first time he felt so alone.  There was one time when he did wander the streets, feeling not only lonely, but heart broken and betrayed.  Quatre couldn't remember why he felt that way, but he knew it had something to do with the Royal family.  Forcing himself not to cry, Quatre started using his solitude as a guide.  What did he do the last time he was alone...?  

_I wandered for a bit, but then stole food from a girl my age..._

Quatre grinned at the memory, remembering the slight mistake.  The girl he had stolen from was actually Duo, when he was stealing to support himself as well.  That was how he had first met the braided boy.  _Now... how could I use that to help me out now...  Quatre sat against the bars of his cell so he could look out at the window to the moon.  The blonde thief didn't notice the firelight go out; it wasn't bright enough to affect his vision anyway._

Quatre's mind wandered to the prince who caught him.  He felt his heart ache with betrayal again and shook his head, clearing it.  He had to focus and find a way out.  Delving a little further into his memory, Quatre remembered the one thing he learnt from Duo, and that was...

_Your hair can hide an amazing array of things..._

Quatre ran his fingers through his own thick hair.  He withdrew his fingers with a triumphant smile.  In his fingers was a small file welded to a clip which held it in his hair.  Turning onto his knees, Quatre started filing.  _Solitude can really point you in the right direction..._


	4. Chapter 4

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 4: Will I spend forever here... and not be satisfied**

_Barton Palace Dungeons, Before Dawn_

Quatre huffed in frustration and fatigue.  He had stayed up all night filing and had only managed to file halfway through the bottom of the bar.  Rubbing his eyes, he tried to blink away the sleep before starting again.  His fingers were becoming sore from all the filing, but he kept going.  _I am not staying here... I am not staying here... I am not staying here..._ He chanted in his head as he filed.  Quatre was positive he was becoming exhausted when, as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, he started thinking about Prince Trowa.

_He's such a bigot...  but he isn't that bad... I'm sure; it's his father, the King, who raised him that way..._

Quatre shook his head violently.  _What am I thinking!?  They are as bad as each other.  The acorn doesn't fall far from the oak tree...  Quatre continued filing, his head swimming in tired thoughts with each stroke._

_Still... what would have the prince turned out like if he had some decent friends? I bet he wouldn't be too bad.  He did have the chance to kill me and Duo back in the alley for stealing, but he didn't.  Still, he might have something else in store for me... I wouldn't put it past him.  But... for some reason... I don't think he's that bad.  Some feeling that I do know him better than I realise... But why?  Argh... How frustrating!  Why can't I think of anything to satisfy my thoughts!?_

Quatre stopped filing for a second and stretched, yawning.  It wasn't until the sun was fully pouring into his cell did he manage to wedge away the one bar.  He estimated that his petite frame would be able to squeeze through.  Hurriedly, he concealed the hole with some hay on the cell floor when the guard slammed the door down to check up on Quatre.

"Up all night, eh?  Well, just you wait, kid.  When I come back, you'll wish that you slept as soundly as a bear during hibernation."

The guard slammed the door shut.  Quatre stared after the hulking man and smiled.  He wouldn't have to find out what the guard had in store for him now...

******

_Trowa's room, Morning_

Trowa sat at his desk, tapping his fingers on the wood.  His flute was lying on its side in front of him, having been played by its master only minutes before.  Trowa frowned.  He had played the same melody again, but couldn't get it out of his head that there was still something missing.  For some reason, the more he thought about it, the more he thought that the blonde thief in the dungeons would know about it; know what was missing.  The prince sighed and shook his head.  Why would he?  He's just a peasant; a common thief.  

_But still... there's something about him... his eyes... so familiar.  But why do I feel guilty whenever I look into them or think about them...?  I shouldn't have too... I'm his prince; I don't have to feel guilt about him, but I do. It's like I did something to him years ago, but I don't remember..._

Trowa fingered his flute, confused.  Why was he thinking such things?  Why should he care?  Trowa played a few chords on his flute to simply wile away time until his father's business with the Chang Regent is done.  Wufei was apparently taking advantage of the army soldiers' training grounds.  When playing the chords weren't enough anymore, he took up his flute, deciding to get down to what was bothering him.  He'd go down to the music room and find the missing element to his song.

******

Quatre panted a little in his hiding place.  He cursed himself mentally for his fatigue.  It had gotten him lost in the palace, although he mentally noted that he shouldn't really.  He poked his head around the corner, keeping a look out.  He suspected he was near what he was sure was the music room, although he couldn't put finger on it how he knew.  Taking a gulp, Quatre leapt out of his hiding place and ran forward, heading straight for the music chamber.  _The instruments might provide some more secure temporary hiding places..._

Shutting the door quickly behind him, Quatre looked around the room.  Most of the windows at his level were shut and locked.  The higher window that require some way of climbing were open though.  Quatre looked around for something to climb onto to get out.  Decidedly, he dragged a chest nearby and positioned it under a wide open window a few feet above him.  Quatre felt himself smile and reached up to hoist himself out of the window.

"Yes... freedom, here I come..."

The wind was knocked out of the blonde when he was tackled to the ground.  He winced a little, but felt shocked when he heard the familiar voice.

"Don't go around announcing your achievements until you are sure you got away with it.  Didn't you learn the first time?"


	5. Chapter 5

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 5: And I would be the one to hold you down, kiss you so hard, I'll take your breath away and after I'd wipe away the tears, Just close your eyes dear...**

_Music Room, Barton Palace_

_Why... Why does he seem so familiar?_

Trowa frowned into the wincing face of the escaped thief.  He supposed he was lucky that he came into the music room, or lest the thief escaped.  Trowa held a conductor's baton he picked up to the thief's neck to keep him subdued until he could call for help.  The blonde opened his eyes.  Trowa shook a little, the old feelings he always has when he looked into those eyes returning.  Quatre looked back into Trowa's eyes, the blonde feeling an old stirring in him but cast it aside.

"Well?  If you're going to kill me, do it.  It's not like it should bother you."

Trowa blinked, a little shocked. "Why wouldn't I care?"

"As the Prince, you're expected to think that I'm just a rodent, aren't you?"

_"...Or will you carry out your royal duty and cast him away like the rodent he is?"_

Trowa sat up a little more, wondering where he heard his father say that before, and why he was linking it to the boy under him.  Quatre saw the confusion in the prince and decided to take his chance.  He tried to sit up and push the prince away so he could escape.  The movement broke Trowa's train of thought.  Quatre pushed away the hand that had the conductor's baton, but Trowa tried to fight it, causing the stick to shatter into pieces.  Trowa grabbed Quatre's shoulders and forced him down onto the floor again.  Quatre yelped in shock.

"Okay, you win!  Please get off me, you're hurting!"

_A boy squirmed, smiling but wincing at the same time, mostly from shock.  "You win Trowa!  You win!  Now get off me, it hurts!"_

"Who are you...?"  Trowa asks.

Quatre blinked and looked, really looked, Trowa in the eyes.  Quatre took a deep breath, but instead of the feelings of guilt and shame that usually fill Trowa, Quatre felt betrayal.  He squirmed and surprisingly, found tears pricking his eyes.

"Why should you care?  You betrayed me." Quatre found himself saying, feeling as though he spoke the truth, but not knowing how.

"How... how did I betray you...?"

Quatre opened his eyes and saw a watery image of Trowa.  He realised he really was crying.  "I... I don't remember.  I know you did... You betrayed me..."

Trowa sat up and off Quatre.  Quatre blinked, allowing some tears to fall so he could see properly.  Trowa had an unreadable expression on his face.

"I still don't know your name..."

"Quatre." found himself saying.

"Quatre... that's an unusual name... I like it."

_A brown haired, green eyed boy looked back at Quatre, tilting his head sideways in wonder.  "I like your name... Quatre.  It's unusual."_

"Trowa's an unusual name too.  It has a nice ring to it."

_The blonde boy smiled at Trowa.  "Yours is unusual, too.  It has a certain ring to it."_

Trowa blinked and looked back at Quatre.  He decided to voice his suspicions.  "Doesn't this... feel... familiar?  Somehow?"

Quatre nodded, surprised that the prince felt the same.  "Yeah... like... we knew each other?"

Trowa wasn't ready to take that leap but nodded anyway.  "But how?"

Quatre raised his head in thought.  "Maybe we knew each other when we were younger... but how?"

_"We'll be friends forever, won't we Trowa?"_

_"Of course, Quatre."_

"We were friends..." Trowa muttered.

It was Quatre's turn to blink, as if he wasn't ready to take that leap but spoke as well anyway.  "Yeah?  Then you must have done something..."

"Father..."

"What?"

"I... "

_"Well, Trowa?  What will you do? Will you keep this boy and taint the royal name?  Or will you carry out your royal duty and cast him away like the rodent he is?"_

"I was forced to make a decision, and I chose the wrong one..."

"Prince Trowa..."

"You never called me Prince before..." Trowa said, almost with a hint of humorous remembrance. "In the past, you always called me Trowa or.."

"Tro."

Trowa looked down in surprise at Quatre, realising he was still positioned on top of him.  Quatre didn't seem to care anymore, as tears poured down his face.  "I always called you Tro."

Trowa started a little, the actual speaking of his old nickname striking a chord in him.  He looked back into the blue eyes, now shiny with tears.

"Quatre... I'm so sorry..."

Trowa lifted his other hand and wiped Quatre's cheeks dry.  Moving slightly so Quatre could sit up, Trowa ran his hand through his hair, pushing the bang aside slightly so that both eyes were visible.  Quatre tried to stifle a giggle.  "So you do have two eyes; I remember always thinking that you were..."

"A Cyclops.  I remember..." Trowa said with a little smile.  He straightened his hair out again.  "This is so strange... I can't stop saying how sorry I am Quatre, for..."

Quatre put one finger on Trowa's lip to silence him.  "You don't have to... although you did disown me, I'm sure you had your reasons..."

"But... we did..."

Unable to try and express it in words, he took up Quatre's hand and intertwined their fingers making a fist.  He shook it up and down three times and together, they linked their little fingers.  Quatre nodded, remembering.

"Our friendship shake..."

"I promised we'd be friends forever... This was our promise... And I broke it..." Trowa said with a slight choke.

"I told you.  You must have had your reasons.  Your father for one..."

"My father... he didn't like the way our friendship was going..."

"What do you mean?"

"He feared the things you and I were beginning to feel.."

"Tro..."

"Quatre... I know I don't deserve this, but I have to know..."

With that, Trowa moved forward, taking Quatre's other hand.  Before Quatre could say or do anything, Trowa's lips claimed his into a passionate kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 6: Through this world I've stumbled, so many times betrayed...**

_Music Room, Barton Palace_

After a time, Trowa broke his embrace with Quatre.  Trowa was shocked with what he saw.  Quatre had his head down, tears pouring down his face.

"Quatre... I'm sorry.  I'm sorry if I..."

"NO!"

Quatre violently shook his head and looked up.  He sniffed a little and wiped his eyes.  "No... it isn't you, Trowa... It's just that... when you kissed me... so many memories..."

Trowa held Quatre's hands tighter in comfort.  "Tell me..."

Quatre leaned his forehead against Trowa's shoulder.  His voice was quiet, but steady.

"I remember... how I felt... I loved you Trowa...  But I was afraid that you didn't love me.  Then there was your father..."

Letting go of Trowa's hands, Quatre instead grabbed the front of Trowa's shirt as if it were a comfort blanket.

"And the day you told the guards to take me away... I felt so heart-broken... alone... betrayed..."

Trowa wrapped his arms around Quatre, rubbing his back in comfort.  "Tell me..."

******

_A little boy yelped and struggled in the arms of the hulking guard.  Not that it would do any good if he managed to be released; there were still the shackles.  Crystalline tears ran down the boy's cheeks, disbelief at the fact his best friend and fancy had decided to turn him away.  Finally, Quatre felt the shackles fall away and a violent shove sent him stumbling into the dirt._

_"And don't think of returning, rodent!"_

_With a sniff, Quatre lifted himself off the ground and hugged himself for comfort.  Quatre stared at the palace gates and a sudden wave of contempt rushed through him.  Picking up a stone nearby, Quatre threw it with as much force as he could muster.  Quickly, he turned to run, a shout from beyond the gates making him turn heel.  How long he ran, he didn't know.  After a while, his legs began to tire and he slowed down until finally, he stopped by the roadside under a tree.  It was here that he allowed his suppressed sorrow to flow.  He thought he could trust the prince.  There were very many he could trust before Trowa.  He supposed the first people he trusted were his father and sisters, but they cast him away, being the youngest and less able around the house, as well as having a 'strange and dangerous' ability._

_Then there was the innkeeper.  Quatre had been keeping the horses of the innkeeper's customers whilst they stayed in his tavern.  But slowly and surely, the innkeeper began treating him like one of the animals, beating him and feeding him scraps, claiming that he got complaints off customers for the poor upkeep of their rides and blaming Quatre for slacking off.  In the end, Quatre ran away, unwilling to tolerate it anymore.  After stumbling around for a while, Quatre tried stealing.  He had managed it for a while without being caught.  That is, until the local thief ringmaster caught wind of Quatre's antics and tried to punish him.  That was when he ran and decided to steal from the palace kitchens, where he had met Trowa for the first time._

_Quatre remembered what it was like when he first met Trowa.  He was so suspicious, but couldn't help but open up to the warm hearted yet quiet prince.  That warmth grew to friendship, then love.  Quatre placed so much trust in Trowa that he finally shared his ability that caused his family to send him away; his empathy and healing power, with Trowa.   With a single tear, Quatre recalled how much it hurt when his love said those fateful words that broke his trust... 'Cast him away!'_

_After a few minutes of moping, Quatre realised how hungry he was.  He walked to the nearest town, which was still in view of the palace.  Moving through the dwindling market crowd, the blonde boy looked around for some way of getting food.  It was then he saw a girl not too far ahead of him, but strangely dressed.  She seemed to wear clothes meant for a boy.  But that was merely a note in Quatre's mind.  What caught his attention was the bread in her pocket.  It would have been so easy to just take the bread and run.  So that was what the thief did.  He blocked out her calls to stop and ran into an alleyway.  Suddenly, he was tackled from behind.  Looking up, Quatre saw it was the girl, but she wasn't a girl.  Sure, she had the long braid, but Quatre could instantly tell from close up that this was a boy._

_"Stealing from a thief.__  That's like going against the unwritten rules or something."_

_"What?"_

_The braided boy sat up and laughed loudly, to Quatre's confusion.  The brown haired boy stood and held out a hand to help Quatre up.  "Name's Duo."_

******

"And that's about it... It took some time, but Duo gained my trust... he was the only one. And he knew how fragile my trust was, so made sure he didn't do too much to make me mistrust him... then we became partners..."

Quatre was hugging Trowa now, no more tears on his face having told his story to the object of his affection.  Trowa's hands were still on Quatre's back in a hug.  Quatre nuzzled Trowa's chest before looking back up at Trowa.

"What's a matter, Tro?  You haven't said anything..."

"That's because I've remembered..."

"The past?"

"Yes..."

"Mind sharing?"

"Well..."


	7. Chapter 7

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 7: Trying to find an honest word, to find the truth enslaved...**

_Music Room, Barton Palace_

"Well?" Quatre asked.

"I remember..."

******

_A low rumble in Trowa's stomach told him he was hungry.  Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have skipped breakfast with his father, but the king had been in a funny mood recently.  Trowa snuck into the kitchen and looked around for something edible.  A small crash caught the prince's attention.  Trowa ran to the end of the kitchen the crash came from.  A sight greeted his eyes.  Fruit was everywhere on the floor, along with trails of sugar all over the place.  A smashed canister revealed the source of the sugar, wicker baskets the former holding places of the fruit.  In the midst of the small mess was what Trowa thought to be a scared looking angel.  It was a few seconds later that Trowa realised that it wasn't a halo ringing the angel's head, but rather, the sun directly behind him, and that the angel wasn't really an angel, but a simple peasant boy.  _

_"Who are you?"_

_"I... I'm Quatre..."_

_"I like your name... Quatre.  It's unusual.  I'm Trowa."_

_The blonde boy smiled at Trowa.  "Yours is unusual, too.  It has a certain ring to it."_

_That was how the boys met.  Trowa rescued him from persecution from the guards and even from his father, the King.  The two boys were best of friends, both having never had a true friend before.  There was only one time that the boys weren't together, and that was during Trowa's lessons.  One day, during a music lesson, Trowa flung his flute aside in frustration.  _

_"It's useless.  Who wants to learn how to play such a weak instrument anyway!?"_

_"Your Highness..."_

_"Leave."_

_When the music teacher left the music room, Quatre walked in, hearing the commotion.  After admiring the room for a while, he picked up Trowa's flute.  "You know... you shouldn't give up so easily."_

_"It's hard to play.  It's hard to learn."_

_"Tell you what.  Why don't we learn together?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I'd like to learn how to play an instrument... I've always wanted to play the violin."_

_Trowa thought for a while and nodded.  "That's a good idea.  If we learn together, we might learn faster..."_

_So the boys practised playing music together.  In the end, they had composed their own melody that complimented each other's instrument.  That was one seal in their friendship and impending love. The next was when Quatre trusted Trowa enough to divulge his greatest secret; his power, when Trowa had a cut on his leg whilst they were wrestling.   Then there was that fateful time in the treetops, where they were close to sharing their first kiss without realising.  However, through the whole thing, Trowa was fighting a secret battle against his father, who had tried time and time again to make Trowa get rid of the blonde peasant, once trying to corrupt Trowa's mind, and another by trying to make Quatre seem insignificant and petty.  Finally, Trowa had been threatened with shame and being disowned.  He was told that by being disowned, he will take away the one hold that kept the kingdom together and the whole kingdom safe.  It was then the day he faced his hardest decision..._

_"Well, Trowa?  What will you do? Will you keep this boy and taint the royal name?  Or will you carry out your royal duty and cast him away like the rodent he is?"_

******

Trowa looked into Quatre's eyes now, having poured out his heart to the little angel.  Quatre smiled at Trowa, happy to be reunited with his prince.  Quatre squeezed Trowa hard.

"I'm so glad we remember, Trowa.  Until now, I was beginning to think..."

"Thank what?"

"...Nothing..."

Quatre released Trowa and smiled again, brighter and more angelic.  Trowa took Quatre's hand into his own but winced slightly.  The two looked down at Trowa's hand, which was bleeding.  The two boys remembered their earlier struggle, with the shattered conductor's baton.  

"One of the shards must of cut my hand..." Trowa noted.

Silently, Quatre took up Trowa's hand and placed his own over the cut.  A soft glow, and Trowa's hand was as good as new.  Trowa smiled at Quatre and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"You didn't have to do that... Thank you..."

The two boys stood up, not willing to let the other go just yet.  The boys realised where they were again.  Picking up his fallen flute, Trowa looked at it to Quatre.  Allowing his eyes to wander, Trowa looked at a nearby violin.

"You know... for years after you left, I still played our song, but never remembered what was missing...  Quatre, would you play with me, one more time?"

"It'll be my pleasure..."

So for a while, the angel and the prince played the violin and flute to their hearts' content, finally completing the tune they both had momentarily lost.

******

_Elsewhere in the palace_

"Well, Regent Chang.  I think Trowa would be pleased with the arrangements.  This would benefit our kingdoms greatly."

The dark haired ruler of the Chang Empire nodded.  "I'm very happy to hear that, King Barton.  I'll take my leave now.  My son will stay behind and the procession should be arriving tomorrow."

A soft knock on the door interrupted the two men.  "Enter." bellowed the King.  A guard walked into the room and bowed.

"Your Majesty.  The prisoner has escaped."

"Which prisoner?"

"The one your son had apprehended yesterday afternoon, sire."

"Well, what are you doing here!?  Search the grounds to make sure he isn't still here!"

"Yes, sire."

The guard left, leaving the King and Regent alone again.  The King smiled at the Regent but paused when he saw the man tilting his head slightly.

"Anything wrong, Regent?"

"Such lovely music... can you hear it, Your Majesty?"

King Barton listened out.  With a small start, he realised he recognised the tune.  The flute was obviously his son, Prince Trowa.  He'd always played that tune.  The violin, however...  King Barton forced a grin on his face.  "Yes.  My son.  He's quite a musician.  Must have... his old music teacher and himself must be just playing some composition.  When did you say you were leaving?"

"I'm afraid I must take my leave now."

"That's fine, your Regent.  Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

King Barton's smile fell when the Regent left.  He immediately opened another door and called over a guard.  "Yes, sire?"

"Go immediately to the music room.  Find out who's playing with Trowa and report back to me."

The guard bowed and left immediately.  The king snarled.  If that peasant boy returned and he and Trowa had rekindled their past… The King took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  No, he won't lose his temper.  There might even be a way to turn the situation to his advantage...

******

_Music Room, __Barton____Palace_

The two boys end their melody, both smiling.  Trowa then remembered something and lowered his flute.

"Quatre; you need to leave the palace.  You're still considered a prisoner, and I don't want you to be hurt."

Quatre replaced the violin to its rightful place, a little sad, but nodded, understanding.  "How can I though, Tro?  Aren't there guards everywhere?"

So the two boys snuck around the palace.  A few times, Trowa had to offer a distraction to the guards to allow Quatre to sneak away.  In the end, both boys ended up by the servants' gate, with the road leading to the village.  Trowa held Quatre for a moment, both unwilling to let go.

"Tro... when will I see you again?"

"As soon as possible, Quatre; there're some things I need to sort out.  I'll come into the village tomorrow morning.  Wait for me by the oak tree just outside."

Trowa and Quatre parted a little and stared into each other's eyes.  Finally, Trowa gave the blonde a passionate and gentle kiss.  With concern in his voice for any approaching guard, Trowa spoke.  "Now run.  I'll see you tomorrow."

Quatre nodded wordlessly and turned, his legs quickly taking him away from the palace.  Trowa ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  A whirl of emotion and questions ran through him.  Should he tell his father?  Should he simply run away?  What about the stability of the kingdom?  Why hadn't he admitted his feelings for Quatre when they were younger?  Long after Quatre had ran out of sight, Trowa turned and walked back into the palace, deciding to collect his thoughts to come up with a plan.  Unknown to him, in the shadows, a guard acting as a spy had also turned back to the palace to inform the King of recent events.


	8. Chapter 8

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

_ _

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

Authoress Notes: Just to fill in to some people some questions that popped up. All Chapter titles are lyrics to the song 'Possession' by Sarah Maclaclan (Did I spell that right?). And the composition the boys played together was the song they played in the series. Remember the duet after Quatre met Trowa where they played (surprise, surprise) a violin and flute? *sniff sniff* It was such a beautiful song!!! Anyone know where I can find it?

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 8: You speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhyme; My body aches to breathe your breath, your words keep me alive,**

_Dining Room, Barton Palace_

Trowa ate silently whilst his father spoke animatedly over afternoon tea. Due to the fact Prince Wufei opted against afternoon tea, he wasn't around to keep conversation with the King and Trowa had to make some form of communication. Occasionally, Trowa would oblige his father with a 'Yes', 'Not really' or just a simple nod or shake of his head. Rather than concentrate on his father's discussion with him, Trowa thought about his angel. _When should I tell Father... Should I even tell him!?_ Trowa's father asked him a question again, to which Trowa only shrugged. _Why should he care...? He was the one who made me lose Quatre in the first place._

"So, what do you say to that, Trowa?"

_But what can I do? I wish Quatre was here now..._

"Trowa?"

_Quatre..._

"TROWA!?"

Trowa jumped a little from his thoughts, not expecting his father to shout like that. He hadn't done that in years. Trowa looked up reluctantly. "Apologies, father. My mind was elsewhere..."

King Barton shook his head. "What am I to do with you, Trowa? The wedding is tomorrow and yet you haven't even contributed a single comment or opinion on it."

"Wedding? What wedding?"

"What wedding, he says! Why, the wedding tomorrow!"

"Whose?"

"Yours and Princess Sally of the Chang Regency!"

Trowa nearly spat out the tea he had in his mouth. After managing to choke down the liquid, Trowa looked up at his father. "M...mine and Sally's...?"

"Of course! That was what Regent Chang and myself were discussing yesterday! This is a very profitable arrangement. Our kingdom will expand quite a bit. And you get a very handsome wife in the process."

Trowa shook his head at the proposal and nearly slammed his cup down. "And you went through the whole process without consulting me?"

"Trowa! I had your best interest at heart. This will guarantee stability in the kingdom. Just think. You will have both the peasants of Barton-Arms and the Chang Regency bowing before you!"

"I don't want that."

"Of course you do, Trowa."

"No I don't. I refuse to marry, father, and there is nothing you could say or do that will convince me."

With that, Trowa rose from his chair and strode out of the dining room. King Barton stared after his son long after he left the room. With an angry sigh, King Barton motioned for a nearby guard to walk forward.

"Yes, Majesty?"

"You remember that peasant thief that was apprehended yesterday? I want you to go into town. Search high and low for him. I want him brought before me before sundown. If you don't, I'll have your head."

"Yes Majesty. Consider it done."

King Barton took a long sip of his tea when the guard left. The King couldn't help but smile maliciously. Everything WILL go to plan, just as he thought it would. His son simply needs a little persuasion...

******

"How you feeling?"

"Hmm...."

"That good, huh?"

"Hmm..."

"Hey Quatre!"

"Hmm..."

"Can I have your share of the bread?"

"Hmm..."

"Hey Quatre!"

"Hmm..."

"There's a couple of blue skinned midgets crawling up your back and sucking your brains out!"

"Hmm..." 

Duo huffed and folded his arms in exasperation, looking at his friend across the table. The blonde was poking at his loaf of bread. Duo ate his own an hour ago; fifteen minutes after Quatre came back. Quatre had worn the same expression for the whole time. Dreamy, like he had discovered something very secret and wonderful, but deep in thought and troubled, like something was wrong at the same time. Duo waved his hand in front of Quatre's eyes. Didn't work. The blonde was still stuck in Cloud Cuckoo Land. Decidedly, Duo picked up his mug of water and splashed all the contents in Quatre's face. That washed away his faraway look. Spluttering, Quatre looked at Duo and pouted.

"What was that for!?"

"You stink of dungeon reek; thought I'd do you the favour of giving you a quick shower." Duo commented, grinning. "Seriously though, Q-man. What happened to you? You spend the night in a dungeon, escape and you don't care to offer me details!? I mean, like, did you get to bop the prince!?"

Quatre smiled to himself, looking back down at his bread. "Not quite how you think..."

"No way! You kicked his butt?"

Quatre laughed and shook his head. "No. It's... a little... complicated." Quatre sighed, suddenly very heavy hearted. "I remembered why I hated the Royal Family so much..."

"Really!? Finally, some answers! Spill!"

Quatre began talking, starting from when he met Trowa when they were children, to the King's reaction of their 'friendship', to when he was kicked out of the palace. Moving from his past, Quatre quickly leaped onto talking about the past twenty four hours. When Quatre stopped talking, Duo sat back and put a hand to his head, trying to process all the new information. Quatre sighed again and put his arms on the table top, thinking.

"But... it hurts, you know, Duo? I want to be with him, I need him, but... the King..."

"Wait Quat. You say you love Trowa, right?"

"Of course!"

"Then it won't matter what the King sez, right?"

"I suppose..."

"No suppose about it. You love him, and no one needs to tell you otherwise."

Quatre let himself smile. He then let out a laugh and shook his head. "You're right... You're right!"

"When have I ever been wrong?"

The friends chuckled, Quatre's short-lived sadness flowing away. Duo was right. Why should the King's opinion matter? He probably never loved anyone but himself before. Quatre stopped chuckling, now smiling.

"Thanks, Duo. I needed that. Tomorrow, I think I should go back to the palace and stand up to the King."

"Well... don't just jump in. Use that..." Duo said, poking at Quatre's head. "Listen, I'm gonna take a walk now. Coming?"

Quatre shook his head and bade his braided friend goodbye. With a renewed sense of spirit, Quatre tore his bread and began eating. He hardly finished his meal though when he heard some shouting. Standing, Quatre wasn't prepared for the storm of soldiers that broke down the safe house door. The blonde tried to run, but was knocked out almost immediately. He only stayed awake long enough to hear the guard holding him speak.

"You are under arrest. Tomorrow at dawn, by order of the King, you will be executed."

******

Trowa stroked the flute in his hands, thinking. How should he go about his current situation? How should he stand up to his father? Sighing, the uni-banged prince looked up at the sunset. The sky seemed to be on fire. Noise on the ground below him caught his attention. Some guards were returning, dragging behind their procession a carriage. A prisoners' carriage. This made the prince frown. _Which poor villager had they caught this time?_ Turning away from the sight, Trowa in from the balcony. Absentmindedly, he keyed his and Quatre's song on his flute, but not playing.

"Hello, Trowa."

Prince Wufei walked in, a small smile on his face. "I must offer my congratulations. Your father informed me that you agreed to marry my sister."

"What!?"

Without waiting for Wufei to say anymore, Trowa strode out of the room and made his way to his father's chambers. _How dare he!? I said I wouldn't marry, and yet he still persists!?_ Frowning, Trowa stood before his father's desk, waiting for the man to speak. The silence was tense. Before long, the King lifted his head.

"Can I help you, Trowa?"

"I said I wouldn't marry. Why haven't you cancelled the proceedings?"

"Because you will marry..."

"What makes you say that!? I won't marry Princess Sally. My heart's for another!"

Heavy hands slammed on the desk. The King had stood to his full height, glaring at the prince angrily. "For another, eh!? That peasant boy, isn't it? That thief you apprehended only a few days ago that escaped!"

Trowa hesitated a little. How did his father know? He never saw Quatre...

"That's it, isn't it? That... rat, was the one you met yesterday. I never forgot, Trowa. I heard that music you two were playing. You think I'd never realise!?"

Trowa took a deep breath. "Quatre is not a rat... and as long as I love him, I'll never marry Sally...."

The King's snarl melted slightly. Trowa noticed. In fact, now the face turned into a triumphant sneer. "So... how much do you 'love' that rat?"

Trowa frowned. Why would the King be smiling like that...?

"Well.... answer this instead. Do you love him enough to marry Sally to avoid his execution?"

"What!?"

"You heard me right, Trowa. Execution. Tomorrow. If you're not wed to Sally two hours before noon, the boy will die."


	9. Chapter 9

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 9: Into this night I wander; It's morning that I dread.**

_Marriage... to Sally.__  If only there was a way to find Quatre and get him out... but where is he!?  It was well past midnight.  In a few hours, the Prince of Barton-arms would be getting ready for his wedding to the princess of the Chang Empire.  _

Wandering the palace corridors alone, Trowa's mind thought to when he and Quatre ran through these very hallways, playing games that no one understood.  He allowed his feet to take him places.  The music room was one of them.  Softly touching the violin, Trowa smiled sadly.  Memories were fickle objects; making happy memories hurt with such fervour when there was tragedy abound.  Finally, Trowa took his flute out of its case and walked out again.

Trowa found himself out in the garden with his flute, amongst the flowers a few minutes later.  Their scent was strong this night; fireflies hopped around, lighting the garden around him.  It was enchanting, but Trowa hardly noticed.  Lifting his head, Trowa noticed the big round moon.  He couldn't help but frown at it.  Usually, the moon was filled with mysterious beauty to him; holding the secret of his love for years.  Now, it mocked him and the love he had by burning as brightly as it could.

"Quatre..." Trowa whispered, looking down at his boots.  "I promise... I won't marry Sally and save you.... somehow..."

With a heavy sigh, Trowa sat on a nearby bench and lifted his flute to his lips and started playing.  The same tune he and Quatre were playing not too long ago.  Only now, it was lonely and incomplete again.  As he played, he watched the fireflies fly higher and around the palace.  As he played, he frowned at the moon now shining behind a tower, defying its mockery.  Even as he played, his thoughts worried on how he'd avoid the wedding the next day...

******

Quatre wiped his eyes, having cried again that night.  _Trowa and Sally... Oh God; I'm sorry, Trowa.  I should've fought back...  Leaning back, Quatre stared out at the moon.  The pale light seemed to weep with him and for Trowa.   Quatre stared down at his shackled hands and ankles.  He had heard about his execution the next day.  The crime: theft and indecency to the Prince, issued by the King.  Fear iced his stomach every time he thought about it.  According to the guards, the minute Trowa had said 'I do', Quatre's head would be rolling.  The blonde shuddered.  _

Quatre lifted his hands to rub his neck, but instead fingered his gag; some sort of metal band to prevent him from calling for help.  That made Quatre's hopes dim even more.  With no way to call for help or to let Trowa know where he was, what chance had he?

A soft flute melody reached his ears. Trowa's part.  Their song.  Standing with great difficulty, Quatre stood on tip-toes to look outside the window.  It was the first time he realised where exactly he was.  The ground was a long way down, overlooking the garden.  _Didn't think I'd be privileged enough to get a room with a view... Quatre thought sardonically.  He scanned the garden.  The rose bushes, the neatly kept grass, the well pruned trees...  __There!  Quatre spotted in between two bushes the sitting figure; the silhouette he recognised as Trowa.  The flute shone with ethereal light in his hands._

A single tear ran down his eye.  Unable to call out or make some sort of signal, he felt his heart ache.  He'd be beheaded in the morning, and this will be the last image he'd see of his prince.  As beautiful a picture it would make, Trowa's form said something different to Quatre.  Sad, forlorn, alone...  Quatre didn't want that for Trowa.  All too soon, the music ended.  _Why didn't we make it longer?_ Quatre thought heavily.  Sadly, he watched Trowa rise and walk away, head down.  Sinking to the floor, Quatre dropped his eyes.  Only a few hours until he was beheaded.  Only a few hours until Trowa was wed.  Only a few hours now...  Only a few hours...

_I'm sorry Trowa...._


	10. Chapter 10

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 10: Another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread.**

Sunlight poured down on Barton-Arms.  The Palace was a scurry of activity.  Last minute decorating, catering, gathering invitations from arriving guests.  The hustle and bustle seemed to hold a joyous air.  The Prince is getting wed!  A beautiful wife!  A marvellous cake!  A wonderful wedding day!  These compliments were flying all around, congratulating the King and his to-be-wed heir.

Away from this main clatter and joy, Trowa was in his room.  Sitting before the mirror, Trowa glared in contempt.  Servants and valets were running around, helping getting his wedding clothes prepared on time.  Finally, unable to take anymore, Trowa stood and turned to face them.

"LEAVE ME BE!  LEAVE THIS ROOM!"

Startled, there was a lull before they shuffled out, heads down.  Wufei came in, dressed in his finest celebratory robes just as the last servant left.  He shut the door behind him and studied the back of the groom.  Wufei cleared his throat.

"What did I tell you!?  I said leave me be!"

"Is that anyway to speak to your best man?"

Trowa turned, surprised by the appearance of the other Prince.  Trowa let out a sigh.  "I'm sorry, Wufei.  It's just that...  I can't take all this..."

Wufei humphed but smiled, picking up the neatly pressed jacket off the bed._  Poor Prince must be nervous.  Wedding jitters.  Wufei noted the colour; a Prussian blue that reminded him of someone he knew.  Shaking his head clear of his wistful thoughts, Wufei looked back up at Trowa, who was now frowning at his reflection in the mirror._

"Aren't you going to get your jacket on?  Or you'll be late for the ceremony."

Trowa looked at the jacket through the reflection on the mirror.  The gold edges glinted at him, the blue material beckoning to be put on.  Trowa turned and took the jacket from Wufei.  He paused for a moment before speaking.

"Wufei... have you ever had the feeling where you want to do something right, but... at the same time, whichever decision you make, it will be the wrong one?"

Wufei frowned for a moment.  "What are you saying, Trowa?  You don't want to get married?  I admit, it all has been a little sudden."

Trowa sighed and started pulling the jacket on.  "No, I don't want to get married."  Looking up, Trowa met Wufei's eyes.  "Not wanting to insult you, but I don't want to walk down the aisle with your sister."

Wufei studied Trowa for a moment.  "Why not?"

Trowa fumbled with his buttons for a minute.  Finally, he looked back up again.  "My heart's for another, but...  It's complicated."

"Do you truly love this other person?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you say before we got to all this?"

"Like I said... it's complicated.  Haven't you ever loved someone who others don't approve of?"

Surprisingly, Wufei was caught slightly off guard by the question.  Wufei turned and lifted the ceremonial sword off the bed, making like he was inspecting it.  "I suppose there was...  someone."

"What happened?"  Trowa asked, curious.

"I'd like to keep that private."

Trowa looked at Wufei's back and shrugged.  Might as well leave him.  Walking to take the sword from Wufei, Trowa fastened the blade to himself.  Wufei straightened his own jacket.

"Listen, Trowa.  You make your own decisions in life.  In the end, we all are forced to make hard decisions.  We just need to listen inside to know which one is the best one to make."

Trowa nodded, buckling the belt in place.  Without taking a final inspection in the mirror, Trowa pushed open his door and made way to the main hall, where the ceremony was being held.  Wufei followed behind, pitying the both of them.

******

"You, thief, Come out!"

Quatre struggled against the guard's pull on his chains.  He still had some fight in him.  He needed to get to Trowa.  Mumbling as loudly as he could through the metal gag, Quatre attempted to pull against the guard.  Pity the guy was built like a treasury room...  The walk was long and tedious.  Purposefully, Quatre would trip over, trying to buy more time.  It couldn't go on for long.  Quatre soon tired.

Sunlight shone too brightly on the chopping block only metres away now.  The sunlight glinted off all the things that didn't seem to deserve the sunlight.  The sharp edge of the blade; the equally sharp creases of the executioner's robes; the polished, well used block...

A cold shiver ran down Quatre's spine.  The eyes of the executioner was too bloodthirsty; his hands too eager to start chopping.  Fear made him pale.  This was it.  Only a ten metre walk...  The longest path Quatre ever had to walk...


	11. Chapter 11

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 11: Into the sea of waking dreams I follow without pride... Nothing stands between us here, and I won't be denied.**

Guests were seated, expectant.  Flowers of every kind possible decorated the large room.  A red carpet that reminded the groom of a river of blood led up to the altar.  Waiting was the vicar.  No where was the bride.  Trowa didn't know how he managed to make it to the end of the aisle.  Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion; yet, it all was going too quickly.

King Barton was sitting on the front row, smiling.  To the outside observer, this smile could be interpreted as joy for his son.  To Trowa, this smile was devious and knowing.  Suddenly, the band started playing.  Trowa faced the top of the aisle.  The Regent was holding the hand of a veiled woman who had to be the Princess.  She wasn't bad looking, Trowa supposed to himself.  _Still... _

The wedding march sounded as dismal as a death march.  Trowa straightened his back.  _Here goes...  _

******

Quatre stared at the sandy floor, his neck on the block.  The chains removed, the only thing keeping Quatre there was the looming figure of the guard and the executioner.  He felt the cool edge on the back of his neck, taking aim.  He heard the whistle of an over zealous rise.  Quatre squeezed his eyes tight, awaiting the chop.  

The axe came down.  It whistled through the air.  Quatre waited.  He prepared himself to cry out, to sob, whatever you should be doing when your head was chopped.  A cry.  A familiar one.  The axe whistled past Quatre's head and fixed itself in the ground, only centimetres from the top of Quatre's head.  The blonde lifted his head.  The cry came from a brunette.  Messy hair, Prussian eyes and tackling the executioner.  The man fell like a log.  Turning, Quatre saw the guard was already on the floor.  A familiar figure stood over Quatre, twirling a set of keys around his finger.  Quatre mumbled the boy's name in surprise and relief.

"Yo, Quat.  Looks like you could use a hand..."

Duo leant over and unlocked the gag and chains.  Quatre rubbed his wrists, grateful.  "Glad you could come, but did you have to cut it so close?  And how did you know I was here?"

"Hey, this guy stopped me on my way here.  And our 'neighbours' told me what happened to ya, last night.  Came over as soon as I could and found out you were on the chopping block."

Quatre stood up and studied the other guy.  "So, what's your name?"

"Heero."

"Pleased to meet you, Heero..."  Quatre turned and started running.  "We've got to stop the wedding!"

******

"Do you, Trowa, take Sally Chang to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love, honour and obey, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Trowa fought to steady a yawn that threatened to surface.  The service was bound to kill him through boredom.  When the vicar ended the vow, Trowa took a deep breath.  _All we can do is listen inside to know which decision is best to make..._

"I..."

The King sat up, hearing the hesitation in Trowa's voice.  Trowa took a deep breath.  Sally noticed and squeezed his hand.  Trowa looked up.  Through the veil, Sally looked on with encouragement, but not for him to continue.  She squeezed again and mouthed something to Trowa.  

Follow your heart...

"I... Do not!"

The guests murmured amongst themselves, unsure what was going on.  The King rose and glared at Trowa.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm not getting married to someone I don't even love!  I won't be made to!"

"Trowa..."

"No!  Release Quatre now!  A man who threatens a life to make his son marry isn't a man worth listening to!"

The King growled.  Suddenly, a bang of doors resounded through the hall.

"STOP THE WEDDING!!!"

Everyone turned to see the intruder.  A young boy with scruffy clothing, a braid down to his waist and panting hard was there.  Trowa blinked in confusion.  Who was this guy...?

"Trowa!?"  Behind the braided boy, Quatre ran in, panting hard.  Trowa's eyes shone and brightened.  Behind him, another boy was there.  Wufei seemed to know him quite well.

"Heero?  What are you doing here?!"

Heero never got the chance to say anything.  The King started barking orders to the guards.

"Seize them!  Seize them!"

Guards started running forward to claim the three intruders.  Wedding guests yelled and screamed, instantly panicking the way nobles do when order is disrupted so violently.  Quatre dodged the arms of one guard whilst Duo rolled out of the way.  Trowa looked at Wufei and Sally.

"Sorry it has come to this..." he muttered before joining the fray, drawing his sword.  "Guards, Stand Down!"

The guards seemed to hesitate, especially when the King shouted opposite orders.  In defiance, Trowa made it to Quatre's side, beating off a guard in the process.  Duo and Heero were behind them, holding off the advances of more guards with chairs, like lion tamers.  The King frowned.

"Trowa, stand away from that rat and return here.  You have a wedding to finish."

"Are you deaf or just bull-headed?  I am not marrying Sally; I don't love her.  I love Quatre."

"Love?  Where does love come into it?  Marriage is politics.  You think I ever loved your mother when I wed her?"

Wufei blinked, watching Trowa slip a protective arm around Quatre.  Decidedly, the Prince of the Chang Regency drew his own sword.  The King heard the chink of a sword being drawn and smirked.

"Prince Wufei.  Defend your honour; my son has defied me and insulted your family."

Wufei stepped forward, but rather than engage in combat, stood by Trowa and Quatre.  The Regent frowned.  "Wufei?"

"I'm sorry, Father.  But I agree with Trowa and Quatre with this matter. And I have a confession to make..."

Wufei reached behind him and pulled at the hand he was searching to hold.  He pulled Heero closer and held tighter.  "This is Heero..."

Light of realisation lit up in the Regent's eyes.  "Wufei..."

The King of Barton-Arms growled, realising nothing was going his way.  "You dare defy me!?  Very well, I'll have you all executed.  Guards; seize them!!!"


	12. Chapter 12

**_You're my Possession_**

**_by_****__**

**_Anime the Fallen Angel_**

__

_Underlined Italics_ – means time/ scene notes

_Italics_ – means flashbacks / thoughts

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 12: And I would be the one to hold you down, kiss you so hard.  I'll take your breath away and after I'd wipe away the tears.  Just close your eyes dear**

Trowa and Wufei instantly brought up their swords and struck with the advancing guards.  Quatre picked up a nearby chair and beat off guards that were coming too close.  He was definitely not happy; he had enough of guards coming at him, wanting to hurt or capture him.  Duo and Heero joined in; Duo with a chair and Heero abandoning his, opting for a more direct hand to hand approach.  The Regent looked at the King, confused.

"Your Majesty; I realise this is your kingdom, but those are our sons!"

"They are being utterly defiant, Regent.  They must learn obedience."  The King faced the Regent.  "Don't you want your son punished for loving a boy-peasant?"

"I admit, I find it unnerving, but I'd rather speak to them about it!"

A sharp yell cut their conversation.  The King frowned, seeing that some of his guards had already fell.  Some simply stood to one side, loyalties torn.  The defiant group had spread out slightly; the blonde was a little closer to them, with Trowa to his right.  Wufei and Heero were fighting back to back and Duo was somewhere in between the two groups, dodging in and out of the guards' reach.  Growling furiously now, the King withdrew his sword, making the Regent more wary.  The only way to get his way was to eliminate the cause of this chaos... 

"Your Majesty, what are you doing?" The Regent asked.

"If you want something done right, you must do it yourself."

The King advanced, seething anger growing with every step.  He raised his sword, the blade glinting as it came closer over its unsuspecting victim, whose back was now turned to him.  The boy paused, sensing something.  He turned, his face paling when confronted with the King's thundering face advancing on him.  The sword came down.  A voice cried out, strangled but echoing pain and defiance.  Blue eyes that shut in nervousness opened and widened in horror at what they found.

"TROWA!!!"

*********

_"Trowa!__  Trowa!"_

_Trowa ran through the palace corridors, hearing the cries for help.  He skidded to a halt when he saw a guard tugging at the angel's arm.  "Quatre!?"_

_The blonde looked up fearfully.  The guard noticed the young prince nearby.  "Your Highness.  This peasant was found wandering the palace.  He claims to be a friend of yours."_

_"Release him!  He is my friend."_

_The guard released the arm he held, dropping the boy onto the floor.  Dismissing the guard, Trowa knelt down by Quatre.  The blonde looked up warily._

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"What for?__  You did nothing wrong."_

_"I must have.  Why else would the guard have grabbed me like that?"_

_Trowa looked at Quatre's attire critically for a moment.  Ragged edges on his trousers, a dusty dirty grey shirt, and woe begone shoes... "Guess it must be your dress sense..." Getting up, Trowa went to his wardrobe and pulled out a few clothes.  Throwing them onto his bed, Trowa looked at Quatre.  "Maybe if you dressed in some of my clothes, the guards will really think you belong."_

_The blonde's eyes widened then smiled shyly.  "You don't have to, Trowa..."_

_"But I want to.  If this will help you stay longer, then I want you to.  It's boring around here.  I don't have many proper friends.  You're mine."_

_Quatre smiled and stood up, gingerly picking at the pile.  One shirt caught his eye and he pulled it out, holding it up and giggling.  "You have a PINK shirt!?"_

_Trowa pouted.  "Don't blame me; blame the tailor who made it."_

_Quatre still giggled and threw the shirt in Trowa's face.  Pulling it off himself, Trowa smirked.  "So it's a challenge, eh?"_

_"huh?"_

_Before Quatre could ask for an explanation, Trowa had Quatre in a headlock.  Quatre realised Trowa was daring him to wrestle back and answered by wrapping his ankle around Trowa's, pulling them both down.  Laughing, the boys wrestled, rolling on the floor.  They hit a leg on the bed, causing a mini avalanche of clothes on top of them.  Getting up, the boys laughed, randomly throwing clothes at each other.  Suddenly, Trowa yelped.  Pushing away the clothes, Trowa found he had a nasty cut on his leg from a sharp edge somewhere in the pile of clothes.  Quatre noticed._

_"Are you alright?"_

_"It hurts..."_

_Quatre slid forward, pulling Trowa down to sit.  Lifting up the trouser leg to get a better view of the cut, Quatre put a hand over it._

_"What are you doing?" Trowa asked curiously._

_"Promise to keep this a secret?"_

_"Keep what a secret?"_

_"What I'm going to do next."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Just promise please..."_

_"Okay.  I promise." Trowa complied, holding up a hand._

_Quatre smiled and lifted his other hand, making a fist with Trowa's before linking little fingers.  Finally, Quatre went back to examining the cut.  Concentrating slightly, a soft glow and warmth emitted from Quatre's hand to Trowa's leg.  The prince hissed a little.  Finally, Quatre lifted his hand away.  Trowa gaped in wonder.  The cut was healed completely.  Looking up, he noticed Quatre was just slightly paler, but smiling._

_"What did you do?"_

_"It's something I had for years and years.  I can heal people, but it makes me very tired."_

_"You didn't have to, you know.  I could have just gotten a doctor or something"_

_"I know, but I wanted to..."_

_Trowa smiled.  "Thank you, Quatre."_

******

"Trowa?  Trowa!?"

Trowa's eyes fluttered and were met with a sight for sore eyes.  Quatre held him, his face worried.  When green orbs opened fully, relief washed over the angel's face.  

"Trowa!!"

Trowa groaned, his hand over his stomach.  It felt moist for some reason.  And why was Quatre crying like that...?  "What... what happened...?"

"Trowa... why did you have to do that?  Why!?"

Trowa half shut his eyes for a moment, wondering.   _What's Quatre talking about...?  He remembered that he was fighting off some guards, then turning to find his father advancing on Quatre, sword held up to strike.  Then things moved quickly.  Jumping forward, pushing Quatre away from harm, the searing pain..._

"F...Father...?"

"Out cold." Duo piped up.

"My father knocked him out..." Wufei said, still not over the shock.

"Don't be so surprised.  I was the one who taught you, remember?"

Trowa shuddered.  Quatre held him tighter.  "Don't you dare give up on me yet, Trowa..."

Quatre undid Trowa's shirt, exposing the bloody abdomen.  Swallowing his nerves, Quatre placed his hand over the slash.  Trowa placed a hand over Quatre's.

"You don't have to you know..."

"I know, but I want to.  You're mine after all..."

Warmth spread over Trowa and his wound and he smiled.  "Thank you..."

Heero held onto Wufei, both watching nearby.  The Regent was a little way off, a little wary but not interfering.  Quatre smiled back at Trowa, his own eyes drooping from using a lot of his energy to make sure Trowa was fully healed.  "I love you, Tro..." Quatre whispered.  They heard Duo nearby.  They couldn't mishear the gagging sounds the braided boy was making.  "Man, what a love fest.  I'm outta here before I throw up from the fluff or something..."

Some tittering was heard from the little group nearby. Leaning forward, Quatre kissed Trowa hard, as if scared that Trowa will slip away from him at anytime.  The intensity took his breath away.  Trowa wondered how Quatre was able to even whisper after that.  "I love you, Tro.  I'm not going to let anything stand in our way now..."

Trowa smiled.  "Same with me, Quat..."  Trowa lifted his hand and wiped Quatre's cheek dry.  "You mine, and I'm yours....  You're my possession..."


End file.
